


Lonely Planet

by NeoVenus22



Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Future Fic, Gen, Stargate Crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-03
Updated: 2010-02-03
Packaged: 2017-10-07 00:09:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeoVenus22/pseuds/NeoVenus22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>disconnect and let me drift / until my upside down is right side in / society must let the artist go / to wander off into the nebula</i> -"Nebula", Incubus</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lonely Planet

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: Slight ones for 10x20, 'Unending'.

Sam settled into the command chair of the _Hephaestus_ and nodded at Colonel Marks. He didn't even need verbal instruction, just plugged in the coordinates and started them on their way. Again, she marveled that he'd still want to hang around after all this time, when he could have any post he wanted. Marks had just shrugged and said, "I've already got it."

The new X-305 design, thanks in large part to the Asgard modifications Sam had slaved over (although she was far more willing to give the credit to the Asgard than to herself, despite the way the brass continually wanted to pat her on the back), was silent as the grave, lacking the familiar all-encompassing hum that had marked all _Prometheus_ and _Odyssey_ missions. There were times when Sam missed the noise, the buzz, the constant stream of people. The crew always made a point of casting her a respectful berth. She still couldn't get used to the idea of being called 'General.' She appreciated the respect, but without seeming too immodest, respect was something she was used to. She missed camaraderie. She missed equals, who doled out the respect because she'd had to fight to earn it with them, and in the next breath cut her down with a roll of the eyes or a defiant, stupid "_What?_" Sam had always sort of liked that. It kept her grounded and kept her from going insane.

Captaining this ship with nothing but near-groveling respect and distance around her, she was going insane.

She wondered if this was why General Hammond had always taken such a shine to SG-1. Turned out it really was lonely at the top.

* * *

It was hard to be jaded about their magnificent flying city since it was, after all, magnificent, and, well, flew. But sometimes the job (or Rodney) just gave John a headache. On those days, John followed Dr. Jackson around the city and just watched how damn excited he got over the most random things. Atlantis being fully powered by three strong ZPMs meant no catacomb or turret alike was shut off to them, and Jackson didn't even let his limp slow him down as he darted from discovery to discovery. His excitability was catching, but John had never dealt with Jackson without the rest of SG-1 as a buffer. John could still hear echoes of Cameron in his head, calling Jackson a nerd, but not without a twinge of affection. John contented himself with the idea he resented Jackson solely because he wasn't Elizabeth.

Jackson delivered the news about Cameron, about Sam, about Vala, not without emotion. But the tidbits, like bullets to the chest, lacked the sympathy John needed to swallow them down. Maybe Jackson thought he was doing John a favor by being professional about the whole thing, or maybe he just really didn't know the truth. Sam would have thought the former, Cameron the latter, and thinking about either of them made John's head hurt too much.

Then AR-1 got stuck off-world for a week trying to relocate an entire village's worth of people. Eliminating all the Wraith had been the easy part. It was trying to rebuild the galaxy that was proving to be difficult. Wrapped in the embrace of Pegasus, far away from a place he'd only briefly and barely considered home, John managed to convince himself things were pretty much the way they'd always been.

* * *

They weren't a splinter group like the Trust. No, while the Contagion may have been a Trust mach two in terms of ultimate goals, they were a handful of civilians with no affiliation to any organization, government or otherwise. They had deep pockets and shallow morals. They thrived on secrecy and no one knew anyone else's real name. It was what Cameron was there to figure out and it served the added bonus of no one checking into his background. Not that they'd find much; as far as anyone was concerned, his name was Allen and Cameron Mitchell was dead going on two years.

He showed up for his Contagion-bought job at NID headquarters every morning, stuffed in a gray suit with a skinny tie, skimming paperwork and lounging foolishly by Agent Barrett's office, hoping for any stray whisper of info about Atlantis or the _Hephaestus_. Barrett started noting his constant presence. Then one evening they ended up going home together. Then a lot of evenings.

Every Friday morning, Cameron would receive an unmarked package in his mailbox, containing an untraceable, disposable cell phone. Every Friday afternoon, he'd call the solitary number programmed into the address book and report the week's findings to the Viceroy. Cameron was the Prince. Every Friday evening, he'd toss the phone and go bang Barrett on his couch.

When he'd been pushing forty, commanding SG-1, not as young but still idealistic, he hadn't really pictured this life. But the life he'd wanted at 38 was no longer an option, and this was all he had. All he had left.

* * *

Vala was not exactly a respected figure on Chulak. She wasn't sure if it was because she was a human, or one of the humans responsible for splitting Teal'c's interests between the Tau'ri and the Jaffa, or because she was a former Goa'uld host (against her will, she told anyone who would listen, over and over again, but it never made a difference). The Jaffa at large left her alone, probably owing to the fact that she had earned the respect of the mighty Teal'c and Bra'tac, and due in no small part to her status as the mother of Teal'c's child. She was not immune to the whispers on the wind, the word _shol'va_ echoing through the trees, but she said nothing, for Teal'c's sake. He'd fought too hard for this, and Vala had always respected the idea of fighting cleanly and honestly, even if it wasn't something she'd ever done herself (before winding up on Earth).

Besides, it wasn't exactly the worst thing she'd ever been called.

Leaders of the Free Nation aside, the only Jaffa who gave her the time of day was T'co, and in a few years, once he became more cognizant of his somewhat troubled heritage, she was sure that would all change. Samantha or Cameron or Daniel might have sweetly suggested her idea of motherhood was tainted by the Adria experience, but Vala was no fool. T'co was a marked man before he even was a man, and she guarded him with her life, knowing there would come a day when he, just like everyone else in her life, was wrenched from her.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Pair Instability](https://archiveofourown.org/works/64464) by [NeoVenus22](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeoVenus22/pseuds/NeoVenus22)




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